Little Red
by sugardemonxo
Summary: Boyfriends are supposed to give your heart butterfly kisses and ask if it's okay. Boyfriends are supposed to apologize. It stands to reason, then, that Axel is not Roxas' boyfriend, but a wolf instead. Rape/Non-Con. Non-Consensual drug use and bondage, hurt no comfort, mild smut, modern AU, dark. Week 3 of a 52 week writing challenge. Prompt: A retelling of a fairy-tale.


**Author's Note:** I feel like I should probably apologize.

This sort of... Took a turn away from the prompt, but I wrote something so... I have never written something like this. I don't even feel right telling you to enjoy, so instead I'll just tell you to have feelings with me. I hope you can excuse any errors I've made, and thanks for reading!

* * *

Once upon a time, Roxas was a pack-mule for his mother. His older sister, Naminé, was in a wheel-chair while she recovered from surgery. She was sad about not being able to be up and about for a couple of weeks, and Roxas thought that was a waste of weeks of perfectly reasonable laziness. Anyway, Naminé loved sweets, cookies and cupcakes and brownies. Their mother baked such goods fairly often, and Roxas still lived at home, so of course he was expected to make the runs back and forth from his childhood home to his sister's apartment. He felt honored to carry the weight of cheering her up, he was very good at it if you asked him, so it was okay. It was a pain in his ass and everything, but he loved his mom and his sister, so it was okay.

It was a gloomy Thursday and Roxas was leaving Naminé's when he, quite literally, bumped into a red-maned man.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Roxas stumbled back awkwardly, surprised and trying to catch his bearings.

"It's fine, don't worry," the other man laughed, somehow suave despite being plowed into by another person. He was all tall and gangly, lean and muscle, red and black. He made Roxas' mouth dry and everything inside of him was screaming at him to get away. Just nerves, surely.

Only maybe it wasn't just nerves, because the redhead propped himself up on the wall between Roxas and the staircase down with his forearm and his voice was very breathy and he was leaking charisma into the ground on which they stood. He was covered in flecks of shiny metal and his eyes were lined in charcoal.

"My name's Axel. Memorize it." The stranger, Axel, flashed a toothy smirk and his teeth were almost canine and his eyes were acid green and Roxas was sure they'd melt through him. His insides were boiling. That was the encounter that started the whole fucked up thing. If Roxas had left maybe 5 minutes sooner, maybe, things might have been different. It may have never happened.

Roxas visited Naminé a few more times the next week, and every time he did Axel was waiting for him when he left. He was charming and polite. You never would have known.

You never would have known.

Things developed. That's what things did, Roxas supposed. They developed into special visits, then into dates, then into kissing on his couch. They kissed passionately, deeply, Axel's tongue was a fire in his mouth and on his neck and down his body. All Roxas felt was red. Everything was red.

After a date one night, they went back to Axel's house, which was their usual routine. They got on Axel's bed, which was their usual routine. Axel slipped handcuffs around Roxas' wrists and secured him to the headboard, which was not their usual routine. Roxas protested but Axel felt good, in his mouth, down his body, between his legs. In the dark, Axel left him and Roxas was confused.

He returned quickly with something he wanted Roxas to swallow. It was a pill. He did. It was okay.

"Have you ever taken ecstasy?" Axel asked gruffly, hoarsely, as he touched Roxas in the places he liked to be touched. The small of his back, the back of his thighs, the ribs beneath where his heart went.

He hadn't ever taken ecstasy. But it was okay. Axel kneaded his skin and teased at his need. Axel licked him and sucked him leaving wet spots and marks all across his skin. Axel bit him, hard, and he'd never been bitten like that, but it was okay. Axel teased him, his hands ghosting over the spots where they were most needed, he did this for a long time. Roxas was hoarse and overwhelmed in his arousal, begging for release. He was close, so close, when Axel climbed off of him, off of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Roxas spluttered, confused and horny and dying for release. That feeling in his stomach never left. He knew it was weird when Axel left the room, fully clothed, leaving him there saying he'd be back soon. His cock was hard and his mouth was dry and he was completely naked. He knew it was weird but it was okay. In the light that leaked in from the open bedroom door, he could see the red. His skin, the bruises in the shape of Axel's mouth, the bite marks that were leaking. Everything was red. He sat up on the bed, trying to sit in a way that he felt comfortable, in a way that he did not feel exposed. His heart was pounding in his head and he was still so hard but he was so confused. He was almost scared, but it was okay.

Axel wandered through the house, doing this and doing that and Roxas was so curious. A few more minutes passed that way, with him calling for Axel, protesting in the least demanding way he could muster. Axel didn't say anything. He could have fought the cuffs harder, he knew, but he didn't want to. Because it hurt. Lots of things hurt. He knew that boyfriends weren't supposed to do these things, but it was okay. His heart clenched and a sob rattled his body before he could command it to stop. He only let a few tears fall, and then it was over, it was okay. All at once, he started to feel different. Better and worse somehow. It must have been the pill. He pictured it dissolving slowly inside of him, becoming him. It felt like his suit of armor. He knew when Axel came back he would not protest. He would not reprimand him and demand to know what's going on. He would not say that things weren't okay. Because they were. They were fine. Roxas knew about the world of bondage and safe words but this was not that. Boyfriends ask if it's okay and they don't squeeze your heart in the palm of their hand.

Axel finally returned, turning off lights so that the only light coming in was filtered through the blinds. He purred sweet nothings and dirty, filthy secrets in the same breath. Roxas' breath was shaky. His knuckles were pale and his wrists hurt. He was no longer confused. Axel came to him, naked himself this time. He touched Roxas sweetly, lovingly. He did the things that boyfriends do. He kissed his lips, gently, gingerly. The moon shone in on Roxas, exposing the long dried tears on his face. Axel kissed the lines on his face that felt tight, but he never apologized. Because he was not Roxas' boyfriend. He was not.

He was a wolf. He was devouring him. He uncuffed Roxas, licking the red on his wrists. Roxas did not fight. He did not leave. It was okay. Axel was good to him and his body then. Passionate and gentle. He gripped him so tightly that his fingers left bruises, but there was no more red. Everything was black. Black were the dents that his fingertips made, black were his words as he spoke, black was his heart and his soul and the rest of his insides. Everything was rotten and black. Roxas kissed him back, he reciprocated, he allowed it. He mewled when Axel pressed into him, pretending to care about his pleasure. Roxas felt different, so different. It must have been the medicine.

Only maybe it wasn't the medicine, because when it went away it never brought the other things back. He woke up in the morning. He considered his options. His body was littered in black and red and he felt it. He could leave forever. But he couldn't really, because of Naminé, and that was okay. He could stay forever. Maybe it would never happen again. Maybe it would happen all the time. Maybe Axel would hit him once in a while. Maybe he would kill him. He could probably stay, that was okay. If there were other ways, he couldn't see them. He could have tried, but he didn't because it was okay.

His eyes felt swollen and his face felt tight, like his skin had shrunk in size. Axel's heavy, skinny arm was draped around him while he slept. He was so warm but Roxas was so cold. He moved it off of him, not caring whether he woke up or not. His heart squeezed again, because that was not true. He did care. His own affection for this wolf of a man was bitter in the back of his throat. He felt hungover but not quite, and he was sure it had something to do with the ecstasy. He fought a shudder. He sat on the edge of the bed, preparing his body to move, and the weight shift caused Axel to feel around and groan when he didn't find his body.

"I'm going to Naminé's," he spoke softly, hoarsely. She was just down the hall. He cleared his throat and stood, getting dressed slowly to not disturb his new colors. He pulled on a jacket, one of Axel's, and the smell that used to breed butterflies inside of his stomach now just made it churn violently. He knew there were probably hickeys on his neck but that didn't matter, really. He hid the rest the best he could. Maybe the love bruises on his neck would fool people into thinking it was okay.

* * *

She knew something was wrong, because of course she did. Roxas cursed his luck at being sibling to someone so observant. Older sisters were supposed to ignore you and not notice things. Factory defect, probably. She pressed at him insistently, trying to uncover some secret hatch door. He picked apart a cupcake with his fingers, it was topped with a cute little sakura blossom made out of fondant. He feigned an appetite, despite the thought of eating making him feel ill. People are supposed to eat when things are okay, so that was what he did. He rattled off lie after lie.

"I didn't get enough sleep."  
"I stayed up watching movies."  
"I'm a little hungover."  
"I'm dreading work."

Three out of four weren't _technically_ lies. She gave up, either resolving to press him more later or give him time to come to her. He debated on what to do next, thoughts circling his mind like water circling a drain. He didn't have to work for 5 more hours. He had no idea what to do. Roxas always felt relatively small and afraid, for his entire life. Roxas was small and afraid, frankly. But this feeling stretched over him like a rubber band, and it was so different. The thing about rubber bands, Roxas knew, was that they always snapped back when you stretched them. That felt like the only thing he knew.

He decided, when all else failed, to stay with Naminé. To keep pulling apart cupcakes with little fondant flowers on them and to pretend he was just having an off day, to listen to records and pull things down off of shelves for her. He felt like he was floating away, with no anchor to hold him where he needed to be. But it was okay.

Once upon a time, Roxas met a man who was a wolf, and he was devoured whole. The end.


End file.
